Growing Up
by anonymuse87
Summary: What if Shannon had lived through Abandoned? Walking through Season 2, with some canon and a few new things. Shayid, so if you don't like that, don't read!
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic I've ever written. I've enjoyed them for years, but never thought I've had any ideas/been scared of posting.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. If I did, this would be how things really had happened.

Summary: What if Shannon had lived through Abandoned? Walking through Season 2, with some canon and a few new things. Shayid, so if you don't like that, don't read!

Chapter 1

I kneeled down to the lab, absentmindedly scratching his ears as I poured the contents of my own water bottle into an orange plastic carton. I had tracked for a mile in order to collect a few bottles from the cave, and this was my last one, but I emptied the entire thing after Vincent licked the nozzle, effectively claiming it as his own. _So much for rinsing my teeth tonight, _I sighed to myself.

"You thirsty, Dog?" I asked, almost expecting him to answer, the way he looked at me. We had been through a lot recently-lost people close to both of us. The comradery of weathering such losses brought an understanding to one another that surpassed real language. "Yeah, you're always thirsty, aren't ya? So drink." Vincent whined a little, a typical response to my voice.

Kissing the top of his head affectionately, I pushed the carton towards him, and sat up, turning towards the makings of my new shelter, which currently consisted of a few scattered branches and a plastic sheet, which I hoped to attach as a roof before the rain expected the next day.

It wasn't looking good.

Picking up the plastic sheet, I was interrupted from contemplating sleeping in the rain by a soft "Come on."

I turned to see Sayid, passing by, almost whispering "Gather your things," as he tossed me a package. I couldn't smother the smile that reached my lips at the randomness of the occasion, and the urgency in Sayid's voice. Gather my things? I wasn't planning on moving to the rape caves, especially right before bedtime.

Nor did I fight the urge to smile in Sayid's presence anymore. He was a big reason-more so than the yellow mutt currently drinking my water—for why I was happy, and I felt it necessary to let him know how much I appreciated him by not appearing as surly as I used to.

Shrugging my shoulders, I laughed out, "Where are we going?" He was already striding forward, pausing only slightly to glance back with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sayid?" But he was already far in front of me, and I had to trot to catch up.

"Right over here."

_Great, that's specific._

"Where are we going?" He only glanced back a second time, the mysterious smile just barely gracing his lips, smile upturned within the frame of his close-cut beard. I couldn't help but giggle flirtatiously back. He seemed so excited to show me something, almost like a little boy. It was times like this that I realized how much light was still inside him, despite his contending that he would never be fully capable of being anything more than a torturer. He saw only the dark, but it was times like this where I saw the romantic within him, the friend, the companion.

The hero.

My hero.

We finally reached the mass of plastic and palm fronds that had seemed from the main part of camp to be only trash. Up close, in the clear moonlight, I saw the true shape of it. A perfect door, perfect frame, protected from the elements, far enough from camp to allow privacy, close enough to allow protection. My jaw dropped. It was far more structurally sound than whatever I had planned to throw together tonight in preparation for the storm season.

Sayid stood proudly next to it, the smile on his lips reached his eyes, but hesitated slightly as he held out his hand that wasn't carrying my bag. "What do you think?" he asked, awaiting my approval before taking pride in his work.

I managed to contain my glee, allowing for only a mysterious smile in return, trying to tease him the same way he had in not told me what we were going to see. "Does it have an inside?" I tilted my head to the side, pretending to consider it, rather than rejoice in the product of my lover's labor.

The teasing clearly hasn't worked, as he seemed fully satisfied that I am impressed. He pulled back the tarp door, waiting for me to enter first. Always the gentleman.

We both entered the tent, Sayid hesitating inside the doorway, allowing me to explore my new dwelling. I turned to him, surprised and touched. "When did you do this?" I breathed out.

He looked at me as if I was the only person in the world he wanted to please. "Its all yours."

I stared back at him, trying to figure out what it all meant. Were we ready for this step? Did it matter?

"Thank you." That was all I could choke out at the moment. For once, a glib remark, a smart comeback to take away the romance of the moment seemed impossible. I couldn't invalidate all of his work, just to make myself seem "cooler". What was "cool" on this island? Certainly not what it had been back home. Here, reality was appreciated, and honesty was esteemed more than whatever image people attempted to create.

He finally stepped forward, the flame of affection slowly flickering into one more passionate. "You're quite welcome." I grinned briefly, but couldn't laugh off the ferocity in his eyes. It was disarming. So I quirked an eyebrow, slowly feeling the familiar quality of lust entering my body. Hoping that I was clearly letting him know silently that all his time of waiting, of patiently staying by my side when I was pushing him away, was over. He no longer needed to keep to polite boundaries, I was ready to finally trust him.

He seemed uncertain, almost like he thought he was imagining I was certain of this decision, and that it wasn't just his hopes that pulled him closer to me. Taking a painfully slow step towards me, he finally stopped mere feet before me. He disarmed me with an open stare, taking no shame in appreciating my face in the lantern light. I tilted my head to the side, silently daring him to make his next move. Eyes half-lidded, he cupped my cheek, raveling his hands in my hair. Pausing briefly, he suddenly swooped in, seemingly decided that now was the time to give in. No more second guessing, nothing polite. I felt the surge of confidence he must now felt he must act now. The chivalry of the moment had been engulfed in the flames of his hidden passion, put for so long on the back burner while I dealt with my own neurosis.

I opened my mouth, deepening the kiss and allowing him to pull me deeper into the spiral of lust. He lowered his hands to my back, pulling me flush against his body. I was ready, and I crushed against him, fully investing myself into it. I reached my arms further around him, resting on the small of his back, ready to reciprocate the move, when I felt something hard already there, and a clicking noise as I shift my hand lower.

Sayid pulled back, sighing out in either embarrassment or frustration. "I'm sorry." For a moment, I feel fear creep in. _Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward? Does he think that I assumed I had to pay for this shelter with sex, and now he was offended? _But he made a silly little smile, pulling a gun out from where my hand had been advancing. As he looked around for a safe place to put it, I relaxed, allowing the comfortable rapport that we had shared for so long to settle in.

"Do you need to carry that with you all the time?" I asked, kneeling down.

The look he quirked back at me seemed to say he already thought I knew his answer. "I only carry it because I have someone to protect." His eyes carried the weight of the truth of that statement. He knew how dangerous our situation was, and he knew that my fate was in his hands. He also seemed so sure of our relationship that my only response was to pull him down to the ground with me, pulling him into my arms. He once again tangled his hands in my hair, and we resumed our previous actions. His previous hesitations slowly melted away, and he swept me up into his arms and, cradling my head, crushed me down onto our new bed, made of a pile of sand covered in tattered airplane blankets. It couldn't have been more perfect if it was at a five star hotel.

* * *

_Later on in the tent…_

As we laid upon the tangled blankets, I took in the events of the past forty-eight days. How much had I changed? How angry I had been, how sad and upset at my lot in life? I had been so ungrateful, even when life was not really that bad. Now, robbed of everything I had known, removed from any family I ever had, without anything more than the most basic of necessities, I felt peace. Wrapped in Sayid's arms, I felt completely protected, as if nothing in the world could touch me.

I rolled over, reveling in the feeling of my body flush against his. I lightly brushed my lips against his chest, the soft curls on his pectorals scratching my already sensitive face. It seemed like just a second ago his beard had been tickling me the same way. "So…does all this - the tent, flowers - mean that we're serious now?"

He paused, raising his eyebrows and closing his eyes, playing aloof. Clearly teasing me again. "Quite definitely not. I do this for all the girls I meet on deserted islands." He continued to pet my hair. He looked so relaxed, fully at peace for the first time since I'd met him.

I laughed softly, hiding half my face back in his chest and allowing my hair to fall in front of my eyes. I felt a lightness all over, and a fluttering in my stomach. I leaned in and teased slightly, just close enough to make him think I would kiss him but not close enough to actually make good on the promise. I started to sit up. "Don't go anywhere," I whispered in his ear.

Sayid tilted his head to the side, suddenly confused. "Where are you going?"

I smiled reassuringly. "To get some water."

He kissed me lightly on the forehead, then the lips. "Let me." He smoothly rose to his feet as I lay back down, enjoying the brief peep show as he pulled his pants on. I grinned cheekily at him as he zipped up. "I'll be right back." He said it almost like it was as important a mission as any he'd ever taken.

With that he stepped out, leaving me alone with my very dirty thoughts.

I ran a hand through my knotted hair, which had been fairly well tamed until the past forty minutes, when both of us had been slightly more focused on other things to notice how tangled it was getting. I hoped he could get back quickly, I was fairly certain it would look as bad as Hurley's by the end of the night if we could keep it up.

A gust of wind rattled through the tent, announcing the entrance of someone into the tent and threatening to blow out the candle, which fought to stay burning, while the rest of the tent darkened slightly.

"That was quick," I quipped, glancing to the entrance.

Instead of the tall shadow of Sayid, I saw the dripping image of someone I haven't seen in four days. The tiny, shaking form of Walt. I was frozen in shock, expecting it to be a ghost, as I had seen the bottle of messages which Claire had found. He was mumbling something unintelligible, and I finally reacted—I screamed, and scrambled up to go get help out of the tent. I'm not sure what I was thinking, I just knew I couldn't handle whatever it was by myself.

Sayid dropped one of the waters he was holding and ran across the small stretch of beach to meet me, wrapping his arms around me protectively. His eyes were wide, mouth set firmly. "What is wrong?"

"I saw Walt!" I shouted. "He's in the tent! He's back!" I was shaking I was so excited, although I felt the chill of fear and doubt in the back of my mind. Was he really there? I had seen him and heard him, but why would he come to me? Why was my automatic reaction to run away from a ten year-old.

Sayid froze for a moment, and then bolted towards the tent, sand flying from his feet, the other bottle still gripped tightly. I stood there, staring up at the stars and shifting back and forth nervously.

The wind whipped through my tangled hair, as I heard Sayid's steps behind me. "There's nothing." He reached me. "No one there."

_What? It was so real. _"I'm telling you I saw Walt!" I growled out.

He looked at me like I was missing something crucial. "It was a dream Shannon." He almost looked frightened by me, as if I was crazy. _I wasn't crazy!_

I paused in between each sentence, exaggerating my words to clear up any confusion. "He was here. I saw him. He went into the tent."

He lowered his lids, speaking softly, as if afraid to set me off. "I was only gone a few moments. You must have fallen asleep."

_Speaking to me as if I was a child! _"This was not a dream! I saw Walt!" I was past trying to discuss this topic calmly, I was pissed. I was close enough to kiss him, but I really wanted to just punch him.

He paused, taking a breath, as if dealing with a child. "Then where is he?" He breathed out.

I pulled back, shocked by how difficult he was being. _Why couldn't he just believe me? Did he just not care? _

"Hey, what's going on?" We both turned, surprised by another presence. Charlie stood there, confusion on his face.

"Nothing," he looked back at me, jaw set again. "It's just a dream; everything's fine." He said that last sentence as if trying to convince me more than Charlie.

My chin jutted out and I gritted my teeth, furious at him. I stormed off, just as Claire and the baby—whatever his name was—walked up. I heard Sayid murmur my name, but I was too upset to do anything but continue on my path back to the tent. Once inside, I started tossing my items into my bag—anal-retentiveness be damned.

I grabbed my bag and stomped outside, just as Sayid reached the entrance. I ignored him and walked towards the path to the other tents. "Wait," he called. He hopped over a stump and grabbed my arm, spinning me around and steadying me with his hands. "Wait! Come back with me; let's talk about this."

I leveled him with my eyes. "Do you believe me?" He stared at me, opening his mouth. He looked as if he wanted to believe me but couldn't. As if I was crazy. I pulled away, feeling the tears creeping into my eyes. "No…I know what I saw."

I walked over to where Claire sat on a stump, watching helplessly as Charlie walked up and down the beach with the baby. "Mr. Mom strikes again?" I quipped.

Claire looked glumly at me, "He seems to be more maternal than I am." She sighed, standing up clumsily.

I took a deep breath, trying to decide how to ask this. Instead, I left tact to the wind and just blurted out, "I had a fight Sayid. Can I stay with you tonight?"

She paused, looking at me closely, as if she was sizing me up. Finally, she smiled crookedly. "Sure. I could use someone to change him around four a.m. when he starts crying."

I grimaced. _Greeeaaattt._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Night continued, lingering on as I lay on a roll of scratchy airport blankets. The weight of the argument, the look in Sayid's eyes, pressed on my chest. My neck and shoulders were cricked without Sayid's shoulder to sleep on. Claire's soft snoring somehow sounded more like a lawn mower than a woman. The sounds of the forest and crashing of waves roared in my ears.

And then there was the problem that was most pressing.

_Am I crazy?_

I wasn't sure if I drifted off or not, but soon I felt a wind whipping through the tent. The same wind that had announced Walt's presence. I instantly tensed even more than I had before. I felt a shudder as all the nerves in my body froze up, and I peeked through my eyelids.

_What the…?_

"Hey Shan." Boone quirked an eyebrow, piercing blue eyes reflecting light from some unknown source, despite the fact that we were in a pitch-black tent. "What's going on?"

I gaped for a moment, eyes wide. "Boone?" I sat up. "What are you doing here?"

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it to look very Boone-like. _He almost looks real. _

"I am real," Boone cracked a smile. "Or…at least. I'm real to you."

"So I _am_ crazy?" I closed my mouth, frowning. I furrowed my brow, considering his words.

"Well, I've thought you were crazy my whole life. But, are you hallucinating? No." He sat down next to my knees, hands on his knees. His shoulders were hunched over, but not like he was sad, more contemplative. _Maybe he grew a brain in the afterlife. _

"No. You're dreaming, Shan. But a very real dream. This island…there are things about it that we may never understand. And there are things about it that even those who will live forever on it cannot understand." He paused, grimaced, and shook his head, locks of hair flopping back and forth. "Let's not focus on the why or how right now. Let's just sum it up to say that you are asleep _technically,_ I am here _really_, and that what I have to say to you is important and true." He leaned back on his right side, looking over his left shoulder at my shocked face.

"So, you're like the ghost of Christmas past? Am I Ebenezer Scrooge?" I could only joke when given such a ridiculously vague answer.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? No, Shan, think of this as more of a warning. Maybe for once you'll actually listen to me…I'm not quite sure why the island thought I would—it's not like you ever did when I was alive." _Oh, raw sarcasm. How I've missed this. _

My eyes welled up a little. "I've actually missed ignoring your barking orders."

"I've missed giving them." His eyes grew soft for a brief moment, studying me under half-lidded eyes. The smirk was still on his lips, but there was a sad, ironic sort of haze in his eyes. Then, as briefly as if I'd never seen it, it was gone. Replacing it was a furrowing of the brows and a downturn at the sides of his mouth. He quickly sat up, leaning forward over me. For a moment I thought he would want to kiss me, but I realized the urgency in his eyes was more that of being scared.

"Shannon, you have to listen. There will be a moment soon where you will be given an option. You can either become truly worthless and give up all potential that could have been fulfilled over your life. Or, you can grow up. You cannot continue to hide how much you have to give. The island won't let you, and the island does not forgive ignoring your destiny." With that, he put his hand on my shoulder, pausing for a moment to studying my face.

I blinked a few times, then scowled in confusion. _That was the warning? Why does everything have to answer one small question only to open thirty more?_ Boone, hearing this somehow, turned the right side of his mouth up in an ironic smirk. He sat up fully and rose gracefully to be standing once again.

"I must be going, but it's been nice catching up. Keep an eye on Sayid for me; don't let him get to forward with my baby sister." I finally broke out of my shock to regain enough composure to raise an eyebrow at him, gracing him with my best scowl.

He laughed softly. "That's more like it. Take care, and keep your eyes open." _Great, one more freaky prophecy. _

As he stepped out the tent, a soft breeze rattled through the tent.

I opened my eyes again, for real this time.

Just in time to hear the baby start to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I know I'm skipping a could scenes, but just imagine they are pretty much the same as in the canon. I don't want to have to type out every little detail, and I get pretty anal with watching the scenes over and over just so I can get the canon. Thanks to David Fishwick for my first ever review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. Otherwise grad school would be much easier to pay for.

Chapter 3

"Good dog! Find Walt!" I yelled. I'm not sure if Boone meant that I should find Walt. If that was my destiny, my trusty canine sidekick would surely be the best bet. I stumbled in the sand, the leash latched in my hand pulling me along. Vincent seemed hot on the trail. I felt my asthma start to rattle my breath, but the heat of the moment fueled me through the trees.

When we reached the clearing, I released the leash, allowing the yapping pup to push forward without me.

Right to Boone's grave.

I wanted to collapse, but instead I simply yelled out "What are you trying to tell me? Why was I brought here?" I threw my arms out. "What am I doing wrong?" In a fit, I collapsed on the ground. Vincent came to lie at my feet, the same happy-go-lucky look in his eyes as always. I scratched behind his ears, still glaring at the cross with his lifeguard necklace wrapped around the center.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, but the sun had already passed overhead when I heard footsteps behind me. Sayid was there. Of course he was—he was always there. _Except when he thinks I'm crazy,_ a voice in the back of my mind remarked. _He doesn't always believe in you. _He took tentative steps, giving me time to yell at him to go away if I so chose. Eventually he reached the log, and sat down carefully next to me, allowing for enough space so as not to force anything on me. He was always thoughtful that way.

He stared at the cross, purposefully avoiding eye contact to keep things lighter than they really were. He finally spoke, intense as always.

"I know what it is to lose someone you care deeply about." He turned to me, eyes begging me to let him in.

But all I saw was someone rationalizing something that could not be rationalized.

I looked back at the grave of my brother. "You really think that this is all about Boone?" I gritted out. I chuckled humorlessly. "I saw Walt, Sayid." _How could I explain this any clearer?_

He looked so confused. "Then why are we sitting at Boone's grave?" He reached for my hand, trying to understand.

Fed up with trying to put into words what I knew was in my heart, I stood and started away. I grabbed the leash. "Just go back, Sayid." I already knew what I had to do. Boone was right—I either had to change and make a difference, or be haunted forever by this ten year old boy.

He stood up, "Where are you going?" He looked more cautious than anything, as if he saw the wheels in my head turning. _He knows me too well._

I jutted my chin out, daring him to stop me from continuing on. "To find him." _If he didn't believe me, I'd prove I wasn't crazy. I'd prove I wasn't useless. _

_And not just to him—to myself, as well._

_

* * *

_

I was pissed. When I get pissed, I'm a bitch. When I'm not pissed, I'm still a bitch, but at least I'll hold it off on genuinely nice people. And I rarely am a bitch to Sayid. It's too easy to be nice to him.

Except now. Now, I'm more than happy to castrate the little sucker with verbal barbs. And I've had years of practice.

If he hadn't disappointed me, I could maybe have made an exception. But I've been let down by everyone in my life, so I'm not sure why I was expecting him to surprise me. I guess maybe I was more mad at myself for believing that he would never turn his back on me. But, like everyone else, he managed to break his word. He told me I wasn't useless, then he treats me like a crazy person. He never for a moment considered that—like many things on this island—the impossible is possible. Much like the polar bears, and the random people in the woods, and a hatch with a lock on the inside. The possibility that someone who he thought was on a raft four days ago could be lost in the woods was not even believable to him. Of all the people on the island, _he_ should have believed _me._ I never lied to him, never led him to believe I was anything other than me. I never hid who I was, faults and all, from him.

_Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I should have hidden how useless I was. He would have been more likely to believe Jack, or Kate. They have proven that they were part of the "team". I'm just pointless._

I was so angry with this statement, I started running. _The sooner to find Walt and prove that statement false. _

Of course, that would be if the damn tree roots weren't in my way. My foot slit under a root, sending me flying to the mud. With both hands wrapped in the leash, I barely stopped any part of me from being covered in mud and water.

"Shannon!" I knew he would follow me. Just to make sure that I wouldn't shoot myself in the foot or do some other stupid "useless person" stunt that Kate would probably never do. He easily leaped over the roots, despite the hard rain making a slippery mudslide out of everything, and dropped down beside me.

But there was no way in hell I would give him the satisfaction of saving me.

"Do NOT help me up!" I gasped. My asthma was still moderately under control, but I was upset and had been running for miles.

He sat down, sad eyes begging me to act rationally, despite the fact that I had just explained how rationally I was acting. "Let's go back."

_Like I've lost and am in retreat? _I wanted to be more angry, to fuel the search more, but it was starting to hit me. That he might never understand; that I was the only one shouldering this burden. I pushed myself up, and looked at him. He looked scared. Like he was watching himself lose me. My lip started to quiver.

"Why don't you believe me?"

He looked like he wanted nothing more than to have blind faith, but all those years of war had taught him more about intuition than anything else. He couldn't fight his nature to not trust me. I didn't know if I was shaking because I was so upset or just from the freezing rain that battered us down.

"I need you to believe in me." That's what it all came down to. If I was Kate, or Jack, or someone he respected, he would trust his intuition and think to take me seriously. But I was useless, and all this running around had proven to him that I was more of a waste of space.

"I do believe in you." He whispered urgently.

"You don't! No one does. They think that I'm some kind of joke. They think I'm worthless." All of my insecurities, all that I had been told all my life, finally erupted. Sayid had pulled the one redeeming quality out of me weeks ago, but that was all anyone could ever say about me. That I knew the lyrics to a song about fish in French? No wonder he followed me through the forest. I would be dead right now if it wasn't for him probably. Even if he continued to follow me out of pity, it was over. As soon as we were back at the beach and safe, he must have realized that there was no point to staying with me. There was nothing hidden in me that he would want.

"Shannon, you are not worthless." He almost sounded like he believed that, but I wouldn't listen to his words. _He's probably just trying to convince me to go back to the beach before he has to carry me._

I shook my head. "You say that now, but you don't - you're just going to leave me. I know as soon as we get out of here you're just going to leave me." I wasn't sure if I meant the jungle or the island, but he could only be pushed so far before he would realize what else he could have. After all, he was perfect, and I was pointless. Everyone realized it eventually, and he would too. That's why I had no one else on the island—they lost hope early on that I would be anything but a burden.

He reached forward to cup my face—a favorite move of his. He smoothed my hair, staring me down as if daring me to not believe him. "I will never leave you." I gasped, slowly calming down. "I love you…and I believe you."

I stared incredulously, a lightness starting to fill me, but hesitatingly so. "You do?" How could his words sound so pure when I've been told the opposite my whole life?

He smiled. "I. Do."

My face slowly crumpled, and I threw my arms around him and cried, my tears mixing with the rain to slowly wash away. I buried my face in his shoulder, as he kissed along my jaw line and up to the corner of my eye. Sweet, tender kisses, which seemed to erase all the anger I had felt just moments ago. I continued to weep, but it was with joy now.

_He loved me._

He was shaking now, and I was about to say that I loved him too, but a whispering from some unknown location cut into my words. I felt Sayid freeze, and we both pulled away to look around us, fear and confusion silencing us as the whispers grew louder.

I looked to Sayid, knowing that he heard them too. He looked around him, then over my shoulder something caught his eye and held it. I turned my head, frightened, but more curious.

There was Walt. Sayid was staring at the poor, soaked boy, who stood only about twenty feet away behind some bushes.

_Sayid can see Walt._

Walt held a finger up to his lips. "Shhh."

I turned back, feeling a sense of urgency to prove my sanity. "Do you see him?" I was shaking again.

Sayid finally broke off his stare at Walt to meet my eyes. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. _He very well may have._ He just nodded blankly.

I turned back to the boy, still shushing us. "WALT!" I screamed. I got up, scrambling after him as he disappeared into the trees. "WALT!" I started towards the bushes, getting halfway in, when I remembered Boone's words.

"_You can either become truly worthless and give up all potential that could have been fulfilled over your life. Or, you can grow up."_

Maybe I had been childish in chasing after Walt alone. Maybe the whole point was to get help when I needed it. I paused as I stepped through the bushes, thinking that—now that I knew Sayid loved me—he could help me to never be helpless or worthless again. I took a step back.

BANG!

AN: OOOOOO! CLIFFHANGER! Kinda...

Remember: Reviews are the sunshine and rainbows of the world! All will be treated like little fairies who sprinkle pixie dust and make me write faster!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Soooo, "The Other 48 Days" has basically nothing I need, and it has way too much Ana Lucia for my taste. So I'm pretty much skipping it. Deal with it. (much love!)

We're also going to change to Sayid's thinking for a while! Heads up!

Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, italics are for thoughts.

Before moving on to the next chapter, I'd love to give a shout out to my reviewer! You are the reason I squeal like a little girl—the last time I did that was when Sayid and Shannon saw each other in "The End"!

Dior Nicole: I love your comments, they make me feel a lot more confident, and are helping me with figuring out where the hell I'm going! I have a general plan, but only for about 10 chapters, and not sure how far this whole thing will go.

David Fishwick: You were my first and second comment, and for a day or so I thought you would be the only person who reads this—thanks for cheering me on!

Love to Jac Danvers too! Thanks for the sweet comment!

Pace1818: I like where your head's at! You just gave me more fun to work with. I'm stuck babysitting this weekend, so each night is my "story time," where I'm figuring out what the hell I'm doing here!

Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, yadda I don't own Lost. Boo.

OH! This one has a song that kinda goes with it. I always think of the song that goes with it on my runs, then forget as soon as I'm writing. I've started making playlists of possible songs.

This one kinda goes with "Amen Omen" by Ben Harper. This also goes with "Eet" by Regina Spektor and "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins. All are owned by the singers and a whole mess of music people, none of whom are me.

Please let me know which song works! I really like music, so having a song go with each chapter would be really fun once I get the hang of it.

Chapter 4

"Shannon!"

I had been only a step behind her, almost caught up with her, when the sound stopped me in my tracks.

BANG!

_No!_

Shannon stepped back out of the brush, reeling around to look at me dazedly. Her arms were raised, as if she had been holding them out to show she wasn't armed. Her eyes were wide, but looked almost tired, like she was lost.

Then, I saw it—the dark, damp red patch above her right hip. She reached out to me, collapsing with her arms around my shoulders. I wasn't sure if it was out of weakness or slipping in the mud from the torrential rains. She looked so confused, and she gasped for breath as droplets collected on her lips. Her hair was plastered to her face, and hers was so close to mine that if she wasn't bleeding right now I would have swept her into a kiss that would make both of us forget all about the lost boy, the freezing rain, or this damned island.

But I couldn't think of anything right now—except that she was dying in my arms. I growled out unintelligible sounds, clutching her body close to mine and burying my nose in her hair.

As she closed her eyes and went limp, I felt all hope seeping out of my body. It was as if the rain was carrying it away like a mudslide down a mountain, leaving only the raw shock. The burning shock was slowly replaced by a burning rage, and all I could see as I looked up was the stone-still image of an olive skinned woman. She was still holding a pistol up, head cocked to the side for better aim, but eyes focused on me. I felt murder rise in my heart. _An eye for an eye…_

We both froze, staring each other down. I gently placed my love's body on the ground, and then whipped a gun out from behind my back. The same one that she had felt before we had made love. The same one that I told her I would protect her with. The same one I had failed her with.

"Sayid!" was heard faintly in the distance, but it didn't even register. In the corner, I saw a large black man start towards me. "Sayid, NO!" There it was again. As if I'd listen.

I felt the ground pulled out from under me as the giant of a man tackled me to the ground. I pulled up, struggling against his tight hold, and threw an elbow in his face. I heard a woman screaming in the background, and the same male voice yelling "He's one of use!" As I rose to the ground he grabbed my legs, aiming to keep me away from my target. I turned and thrust my boot to his face, hopping back to my feet. I saw the lost gun on the wet jungle floor, leaping for it as the man jumped on top of me, trying to grab it first. We rolled in the mud until I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head.

Dazed, I briefly saw only spots of light. When my vision cleared, the black man had my arms held painfully behind my back, and the olive-skinned woman was aiming wildly from me back to other people in the crowd.

As I struggled and screamed angrily, I finally saw that I knew two of the people. Two people who last night I thought were on a raft, I realized with a twist of guilt. Two people who I had argued with Shannon in her last moments alive could never possibly be back on this island. _There'd be no living with her if she was alive. She'd be gloating for days. _

Tears started to cloud my vision again, and I let out another roar of fury, which slowly broke into heaving sobs. I felt as if Shannon had passed on asthma to me—it was as if I couldn't catch air, no matter how hard I gasped. I continued to struggle, but the man's hands just pulled harder, almost pulling my shoulders out of their socket.

"Nobody move!" the woman yelled, but a blond woman had started to slowly slide to Shannon, arms up to show no wrong intentions.

"Ana, I'm just going to see something." She spoke in a soothing voice, as if she was speaking to a child, but not in a condescending tone either. Her eyes were wide, kind. She knelt down to the body, laying a hand on her throat. I became angry again. _How dare she touch Shannon's body! She has no right!_

I threw a kick behind me and hit something solid, briefly knocking the man's grip loose. Running forward, I saw only the woman—Ana, was it? It wouldn't matter in a moment. I may not have had a gun, but I had been trained for years to do damage without one. I heard Jin in the background, screaming in Korean, and Michael yelling again "Sayid, NOOO!"

Just before I reached her, I heard the blond woman yell "She has a pulse!"

I skidded to a halt, sliding in the mud. Not even slowing down, I charged over to Shannon's body, dropping to my knees faster than I had dove for the gun that was now only a memory. I heard Ana screaming "Don't move!" in the background, but I ignored it, and focused only on Shannon's beautiful face. Pressing my fingers to the base of her throat, I felt the steady beat of her pulse, faint, but even and blissfully continuous. With my right hand, I cupped her cheek, sweeping a thumb across the apple, wiping away the rain. Her eyes opened just slightly and met mine, and a soft smile hinted at her lips. "Sayid…" she breathed, then her face quickly contracted into a grimace of pain. She closed her eyes again, but the pulse beat on.

I pulled off my tank top and pressed it to the wound, applying as much pressure as possible. I felt Michael, Jin, and the blond woman behind me, and I scooped her into my arms and stood up. Her weight was any weight at all, and my adrenaline was kicking back in as I realized that pulse that was like music to my ears would only continue if I ran as quickly as possible to the one person who could save her.

I looked back at them briefly.

"I know the way to the caves."


	5. Chapter 5

Hey Everyone! I know I haven't posted in forever (for me!) But I was watching 2 seven year olds and a 11 year old who is in love with me (say it with me: aaawwwkwwarrrd!) for three nights. Each night was supposed to be writing time, but everyone had nightmares, so I got basically 5 hours of sleep total. Not to mention all day we were running around and going to the zoo and bowling and I was dealing with tantrums and sibling fights and keeping the 11 off the internet because he's starting to feel the "changes." WHEW! So today I slept in. Short chappy, but I'll post sooner rather than later.

A few notes to my peeps:

LOVE to my "Originally" David Fishwick: I can always count on you to make me feel that my chapter wasn't a complete failure!

Pace1818: Thanks for the sweet reviews! It really made my day! I like where you're brain's at, and I'm definitely taking notes, as this is my first fic and I need all the help I can get.

Magali: I know what you mean! I literally squealed at the finale when I realized what they were doing!

Disclaimer: yadda yadda yadda, itttssss noooottt miiiiiiinnnneeee.

For this chapter, I like "Aint Gonna Love You" By Brett Dennan or "The Scientist" by Coldplay. Neither is very creative, but both work ok.

Chapter 5

I didn't even look behind me to see if they were following.

I never walked, nor did I sprint. I kept a steady canter as I carefully leapt over tangles of vines, making sure that nothing would trip me or accidentally cause me to drop the precious cargo I cradled in my arms. It seemed as if the skies had cleared as suddenly as the rain had, although it was still muddy in certain areas—dangerous for someone less aware than I was. It was about a two mile hike back to the base. I could have made it in less than twelve minutes if I had ran without care, but the unsteady footing caused me to question my steps, and I found myself awkwardly pressing on the bloody spot that was already seeping through my thin shirt, still pressed to Shannon's side. That cursed bullet shouldn't have hit any major organs, but I was no doctor. The only thing I knew about anatomy was where I should shoot in order to cause my enemies the quickest death. That was for combat. For torturing, I had learned what places would cause the most pain, but not kill my enemies. On Shannon, I wanted neither thing from that bullet.

"Wait just a few more minutes, Shannon." I gritted through my teeth, chest tight. I should have been heaving, but I could barely take a breath.

I heard footsteps behind me, and quickly saw something very large and very dark on my right, as well as the others' shadows behind me. The man who I had fought with earlier looked grimly over at me, his stride never faltering. He held Sawyer like a sack of potatoes, around his neck. _Did I know why Sawyer needed to be carried?_ I don't think I was paying attention to those details last time I saw this man. He seemed to view Sawyer's weight as a necessary annoyance, rather than with the reverence that I viewed my load. He carried him easily as I did Shannon, although clearly Sawyer would have been too much for me to carry. The man eyed me steadily, sizing me up.

"You will not attack me again." This was not a question. He spoke with a slight accent, although his voice was more gravelly than my own. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, like two yellow coins shining in the dark.

I never faltered my steps, meeting his eyes. I had composed myself enough since the fight. I would not cry again. I had a plan, a mission. If I stuck to what I know, there was the chance that I could still save Shannon. Fighting with this stranger was not part of that plan. Still, that did not mean I could show weakness. I did not know anything about this person, and they could still be a threat in the future. As long as he did not attack me or my people, I would not change my plans.

I was about to open my mouth to ask him his name, when I heard Shannon sigh softly. I wasn't sure if it was simply making a noise or out of pain, but I assumed the worst. I glanced down at her—no, she still had her eyes closed. I gritted my teeth, hearing the grinding. It seemed like there were no other noises except the steady steps around me and my teeth grinding. No birds were calling, no animals chattering. The entire jungle seemed to be silent in anticipation. Even the rest of our group seemed to be silent—afraid to set me off.

_Good. _

I glanced fervently back at the man, and pushed on a little faster.

In the clearing ahead, I heard something that pulled my heart into my esophagus. It seemed like the path we had taken led straight to the golf course. I could hear the murmurs of Kate and the very person I needed to see—Jack.

"We have more balls; you could always just take a drop." Kate's mocking voice lilted though the trees.

It sounded like they were multitasking—playing golf and flirting. _Shannon and I used to multitask, _I thought wistfully. _No! You are not going to think only in past-tense!_

"I'm good," I heard Jack reply, letting pride get in the way. I couldn't see them yet, but it was clear to me that there was a reason the Others had been able to find us in the past. We weren't exactly a quiet bunch. I ran forward, quickly erasing the final few meters left between me and my people. I could see Jack bending forward to rearrange his ball, then swinging his hips, imitating a pro. "Got it."

I met Kate's eyes, as Jack's back was to me. She stared at what was nestled in my arms. Then at the large black man next to me carrying Sawyer. Then at group behind us, complete with Jin and Michael, two people who should be finding a rescue boat by now. Then back at me. Her eyes became larger with each shift in focus.

" You may want to move." Jack laughed, then saw that she was looking behind him now. "What?" He stood, then turned, backing up a few steps in confusion. Then, he saw the desperation in my eyes and the body in my arms. His look of shock only lasted about five seconds. Then,

"Follow me. Quickly, we have a place where I can work." He turned, and I followed, the rest of this odd rescue party following, those without invalids slowing down, making sure not to be in the way.


	6. Chapter 6

A few notes...because I love to give love!

DiorNicole: As always, your reviews are so detailed and make me blush...almost makes me feel like this is a kinda okay story!

Thanks to Magali and Pace for reporting-mucho love to both!

David F: Thanks! Sayid's a little easier to write, he doesn't seem to doubt everything and do stupid things...a little more logical. BUT he also doesn't ever say what he's feeling, so I'm kinda going by instinct here.

Note: I was a liberal arts major in college and grad school, so the medical stuff here is mostly from watching really bad movies and instinct. Much like Sayid's and Shannon's thoughts. Don't hate on the science-no clue if it's right!

And again, I own nothing but my own mind, which has taken some amazing story and added a little side story. Much like a litte homemade chocolate syrup onto Ben and Jerry's.

Chapter 6

"Quick! Hurry and put her on the table!" Jack kicked open the door to the hatch, startling Locke, who was working on a crossword. It was bizarre how the past two hours had been some of the most stressful of my life, while life had been relatively tame back at camp. It was as if I had returned from a war to find that no one had known it was going on.

I leaned forward, setting her feet on the metal table next to the computer, then cradled her head as I gently laid her down completely. I had wedged the shirt in between our bodies so as to apply pressure while I walked, but now placed my hand down to press it back to her hip. I took a second to stare at her soft face, eyes closed as if she was sleeping. I let my eyes drop further than would be proper if she was awake, to see her chest softly rising and falling. I let out the breath that I was holding, and brought my other hand up to her face to slide some of her hair off her face and cradle her cheek.

"Hang on," I whispered to only her.

"Take him to the bathroom. He's burning up," Jack shouted to the man. _I still don't know his name, _I wondered. "We've got to get him in the shower and turn on the cold water. We need to bring his fever down. I'll be there in a moment." Jack's face was conflicted, but his eyes shifted back and forth for only a second. He looked down at Shannon, assessing the damage. His jaw set grimly. "Kate, grab a towel from there and bring it over here."

Kate looked like she was springing out of her skin. She raced into the bathroom, where the water already had begun to run. I could hear Sawyer groaning from the room. "Get his shirt off and clean the wound as much as possible!" Jack yelled out orders. He pulled out his makeshift "kit" which had been grabbed on the way, which looked ominously small. Out of the backpack he grabbed some scissors, a needle and thread, cotton balls, a few bottles, and a bottle of pills.

Kate ran back into the room, carrying five bleach-white towels. She threw them into Jack's open arms, and he tossed her a bottle, which rattled when it landed in her palm. "Ofloxacin. Giv him two," Jack ordered. As she started to run back into the room, I briefly saw Sawyer under the running water, his shoulder wound dark red but clearly clotted. He wouldn't bleed out-it was infection that was the main concern now. "And strip the two beds and put clean sheets on both of them!" Jack called out.

He now turned to me, clearly in his element. "You're going to need to do whatever I say, right now. Are you with me?"

I let my eyes stray to Shannon's peaceful face. Her eyes couldn't be closed forever. "I'm here."

Jack nodded, then pulled the bloodied shirt off her abdomen, then took one of the towels and wiped away the blood to clear up the mess. A small, neat hole lay just below where her hip bone jutted out on her right. The blood had stopped, but the bullet still was lodged in there somewhere.

"Clean entry. Any further to the center and it might have hit the small intestine. Good so far—she might make it." I couldn't tell if he was telling me to make me feel better or just talking himself through this. "It's good she's passed out—this wouldn't be comfortable." I glared at him, silently seething that he should even hint that any of this was fortunate.

Jack grabbed some tweezers, dousing them in alcohol. He then lit a match and ran the needle through the flame, effectively sterilizing everything as much as possible. He looked up at me, and I leveled him with my eyes, jaw clenched. He had on his "doctor face," the same one he used every time he worked on one of us. Serious, but fully in control. Not grim, but not hopeful. So far, he had only lost one of us in many weeks.

I hoped this wouldn't change today.

He stepped into the "kitchen area" and turned on the small stove. He then put a small, long rectangle of metal in the fire, leaving a good amount for a handle.

He dipped his fingers in the alcohol. "Hold the light over me. Try to keep it steady." I held the flashlight above us, aiming it directly at the bullet wound, highlighting her sun-kissed skin. I briefly remembered her laying in the sun, soaking up the rays almost so that she could become like the sun, shining and golden.

Jack took a breath and peered inside the hole, slightly pulling on both sides to open it up more. "I think I see it." He plunged his tweezers beneath her skin, which briefly began to bleed again. I dropped her hand, then grabbed the "cleaning towel" and wiped away the blood. Jack continued to dig around, biting his lip in concentration.

"Almost have it….there!" He pulled the tweezers slowly out of Shannon's body, a look of pure pride and satisfaction in his eyes. "Now I just need to stop any bleeding and clean the wound."

He looked inside. "Shit. It nicked her ovary." I wasn't sure if that meant she was going to die. He already was dabbing some of the towel in alcohol and dabbing it onto the wound.

"Can you fix it?" I never raised my voice over a hush. I didn't want to wake her up while this was going on. _If she even can wake up. _

He shook his head. "I can sew the damage so she doesn't bleed out, but it most likely won't work the same, if at all." He had already started to whip the needle quickly inside her. Only a few stitches were necessary—the entire thing was about the size of a ping pong ball.

I grabbed her hand again, holding it up to my lips to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. I then intertwined her fingers in mine and held them to my chest, feeling my heart beating through her hand and onto my thumb. She seemed to small, so fragile. Like my hand could crush her's if I wasn't careful.

_That's how this whole problem started—you weren't careful. _

_You failed her._

_Just like Nadia. _

"Done." I looked up, startled out of my thoughts. I hadn't even realized that I'd been staring at the "surgery" the entire time, and now there were no hands invading my love's body. Only a small line of jagged black stitches.

"It's not pretty, but it will hold."

"That was so quick…are you sure you were thorough?"

"If I took my time, we'd have to worry about her bleeding out, which I cannot stop." He stood up and walked over to the stove, picking up the metal rod delicately. "Now…all we have to do is keep off infection." He walked back over, jaw set decidedly.

He kneeled down, pausing to glance at me. "Put down the flashlight. You have to hold her down."

I looked at him, awed, but placed the flashlight on the table. I held one arm over her chest, the other hand took just below her thighs. Effectively, my arms were a straight-jacket.

Jack breathed in, then placed the red-hot metal rod end on the wound, which started to hiss as the wound cauterized. The minute the skin touched the metal, however, Shannon's eyes opened slightly, and she started to howl and thrash in pain. Her eyes never fully opened, and she didn't speak, but she was clearly in horrendous pain. I gritted my teeth and leaned down to her ear, whispering soothing words to comfort her and tell her this was all to save her. "It's almost over, love." I briefly remembered guiltily that only a few years ago I had done this to people who were fully awake.

_Different times then. I was different then._

Jack pulled the rod away and placed it back near the stove, but kept the stove on. Clearly, Sawyer would be in for a treat later. Shannon stopped thrashing and lay down, almost completely still, but chest heaving as if she had just ran. Her eyes were closed, but she let out tiny hums with every exhalation, like a moan was too difficult just yet.

"While she's conscious, you should give her these and some water." He handed me some pills, then stood up with a groan, turning towards the bathroom. "When she's back asleep, move her gently to a bed. She'll be out of it for a while."

"Is there anything else you can do for her?" I couldn't help but notice with a bit of embarrassment that there was a pleading in my voice. I looked up at him from my place, bent over Shannon's body on the table.

He turned to me, smiling ironically. "The only thing, unfortunately, that any of us can do now is wait. Time will fix it the most." His smile faded a little, and there was a sad flicker in his eyes, as if he knows how hard it is to feel helpless. His eyes continued to stare back down at me.

I broke eye contact, nodding understandingly while looking down. He walked to the bathroom, then paused before opening the door, hand hovering over the doorknob.

"Besides…" I peeked up at him, and he sent me a crooked smile. "You think I'd rather work on Sawyer than Shannon?"


	7. Chapter 7

Okay guys, super short chapter until tomorrow. I'm getting my hair done, which is a freaking long process, so I'll be able to write a lot. I have a LOT planned for this, so don't worry-more to come!

Thanks to everyone for the super reviews! Magali and David, you guys are always so great for the sweet words.

Thanks to Dr. Giggles, love that you like something that isn't your normal thing! I was super worried with my first fanfic, but this is super fun to write!

Disclaimer: Note, for my entire life, I will never own Lost. Nor do I own the music I suggest. Or anything else. I'm a starving grad student. Give it up.

Music: Suggested for this is Gin Wigmore's "hallelujah" Just a fun side note!

Chapter 7

Locke stepped into the bright sunshine and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The large black man who had entered carrying Sawyer's unconscious body was still inside, helping Jack and Kate revive the poor man. He squinted and blinked, eyes not used to such light after so many hours in the dim hatch. The sunshine momentarily dazed and blinded him.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw another familiar face, Michael, along with three completely new people—a tall blonde woman with kind eyes, an older man who's eyes were tired and worried, and an olive-skinned woman who hung behind them, shifting slightly back and forth, looking briefly at him then back out to the jungle surrounding them, arms folded and a gun looped in the back of her pants. Michael smiled briefly and walked forward, grabbing Locke's hand and slapping him on the back.

Locke rubbed his bald head contemplatively, the cocked a humorous eye at him. "Weren't you supposed to be getting a boat by now?" He was grinning. He knew that the island wouldn't let them leave that easily. It had too many plans for all of them.

Michael's face lost all humor. "Someone attacked the raft. They stole Walt."

Locke blinked, face suddenly blank. "Then we'll have to get him back." That was all there was to it. "Who are your friends?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure if they're exactly _friends_, but this is Libby, Bernard, and Ana Lucia. Jin's here too, although he went to go find Sun, I think."

Locke nodded. "Nice to meet all of you. Where'd you come from?" Bernard looked to Libby.

Libby smiled, "We are the survivors of the tail. There's another man who survived, Mr. Eko."

Locke nodded again. "We've met, briefly. He's inside, helping Jack fix all the gunshot wounds. I take it that happened in the kidnapping?" He quirked an eyebrow at Michael, who again looked grim.

Michael sighed, glaring at Ana Lucia, who was frozen staring at something very far away out into the jungle. She looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. "Sawyer was shot by the Others. Ana Lucia tried to kill Shannon."

With that, Ana Lucia jumped back into motion, reaching for the gun behind her and waving it in the air, pointing it at the sky, at the group, at the trees. Her face was that of a wild animal caught in a cage. "Hold on right now. She isn't dead. Not yet. And before any of you start to blame me, let's see you try to keep this group alive for forty days with God knows what attacking us at all sides on this island!"

The group held their hands out. Libby took a step forward, "No one is blaming you, we all know it was an accident."

Ana Lucia froze, brain ticking. After a few seconds, she said "I want some ammo. Half of what you got. And I'll need a pack - a big one - a blanket, some medicine, clothes - jeans and socks - you getting all this?"

Michael paused, frowning. "Yeah, I got it. But Ana, no one is going to go after you."

Ana Lucia barked a laugh out. "Yeah right. The minute her heart stops beating I am going to have one angry fucker coming after me. I need as much distance as I can-"

"Hold on, Ana, is it? My name's John Locke." Locke interrupted.

"So what, John? I don't really have time for introductions. I have to get away before that girl's heart stops beating."

"That's just it, Ana. Jack got to her in time. He's already stitched up the wound and cauterized it. There's a definite chance she'll make it." He saw her eyes start to hesitate. "Sayid is tough, but he's logical. He will understand that it was an accident."

Ana looked like she was about to cry, her gun hand shaking.

Libby barely whispered out a coaxing, "Go apologize. It will be okay."

It seemed like an hour passed, but it was only a few seconds. Slowly, Ana dropped her gun into the mud, crumpling to the ground. She didn't shed a single tear, but she didn't meet anyone's eye.

"Shannon's really okay?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, I think she's gonna be fine," Locke answered calmly.

As she slowly rose, Ana refused to look at anything but the forest floor. She slowly took small steps to the hatch door, everyone holding their breath.

As soon as she laid her hand on the knob, a rustling was heard in the trees. Everyone, including Ana, turned to see a large, older black woman charging through the leaves like a bat out of hell.

"Bernard! Bernard!" It sounded like the shriek of baby birds.

"Rose!" Bernard's face broke out in a smile up to his eyes. He charged toward the woman. They met at the edge of the forest, and he swept her up into his arms, crying freely. The entire group watching stared, Libby crying along with them. Even Locke and Michael felt their eyes prick with tears. After a second, the group looked away, clearly wanting to give the couple a moment of privacy. The moment seemed too intimate, even if the couple was just gazing into each other's eyes.

Ana saw this as a sign of hope, that there was still good. She took a deep breath, then pushed the hatch open.


End file.
